A Bleeding Heart
by Bristol Syzygy
Summary: Maidens. Silver-eyed warriors. And the Kenpachi's, rabid berserkers that tear through rank upon rank of Huntsmen and Grimm alike, laughing all the while. All of these legends meet at Beacon, in the form of a woman toeing the brink of life and death, a red-hooded girl that smells of roses, and a crude yet well-mannered boy wielding a sword and smile that are both far too big.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer - I do not own Bleach or RWBY. They belong to Tite Kubo and Roosterteeth respectively.**

* * *

It was a cold dawn in the city of Vale. The entire sprawling metropolis was veiled in a thick fog, thickening the air and blotting out the rising sun. Upon one of the many docking bays of Beacon academy stood a man dressed in an inky suit and emerald scarf, standing calmly atop the platform that jutted out into the air like a grand clifftop.

Ozpin took a shaky sip from his mug of coffee.

That in itself was bizarre. The immortal being that had faced the mother of all evil time and time again, and held strong at that, being scared of anything begged for attention. But for such fear to be held not in the face of a terrifyingly powerful Grimm or ruthless rogue huntsman, but in the face of a mere _student_ arriving at Beacon… well. Something was off, to say the least.

But Ozpin felt like he had fairly good motives behind his fear. If his new student was _anything_ like his mother, then he was going to be in for a rough, rough four years. And he'd been so looking forward to mentoring Summer's child too…

A small, dull bullhead approached the docking bays of Beacon, appearing from the thick smog like a submarine rising from the depths. Ozpin stared up at it apprehensively, taking another sip from his coffee mug as he did so. He started to stroll towards where it would land, his cane tapping against the cement of the docks as he did so, creating a smooth, steady rhythm. He breathed the dew-laden morning air in and exhaled slowly, calming himself. There was nothing to fear, as long as no one set the boy off.

Hopefully.

It took the Bullhead about a minute to land, the ship swaying shakily in the sky as it did so. Not the most skilled pilot, although that made a certain amount of sense if the pilot was from the Frontiers; he probably hadn't been officially trained if that was the case.

The side door of the Bullhead slid open with a groan, revealing a blonde teen wearing a navy blue hoodie and sweatpants, an exceptionally long sheathed sword slung over his shoulders. Further examination revealed that he wasn't wearing any shoes.

Jaune Kenpachi.

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. The only resemblance he could see to the boy's mother was in the eyes - a deep, oceanic cobalt that pierced the soul.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Kenpachi," Ozpin said, extending his hand politely. The boy stared at the hand for a second, then extended his own hand to shake it, his grip loose.

"Ma said a lot about you," the boy said as a greeting.

"What kind of things?" Ozpin drawled with a smirk, withdrawing his hand. He had a fair idea of what Retsu had been saying about him.

Jaune hesitated for a second. "...Things."

Ozpin chuckled. As expected. The headmaster of Beacon turned on his heel and started to walk towards the school, cane once again tapping a smooth rhythm against the concrete. Jaune followed behind him, arms slung behind his head in a forcefully casual gesture.

The gesture filled Ozpin with amusement and relief. The boy was nervous. It was so very easy to forget that the Kenpachi family were just as human as the rest of Remnant. It also guaranteed that the boy was at least somewhat more manageable than the standard Kenpachi. The work of his mother, no doubt.

"I assume your mother pushed you to come here?" Ozpin said, aiming to start a conversation and make Jaune somewhat more comfortable. The calmer the boy was, the less likely he was to destroy expensive property in a Kenpachi rampage.

"Yeah. I didn't really see the point in it, but ma was pretty… determined."

Ozpin smirked. "What your mother wants, your mother gets."

Jaune snickered, relaxing slightly. "Sounds about right."

"Why didn't you want to come to Beacon?"

Jaune shifted, as if uncertain how to answer - most likely concerned about offending the powerful man - before the brashness so common among his family came into play. "Seems pretty useless to me. I'm good enough to hold my own against most Grimm, so it's not like I've got anything to learn by coming here."

Just like his mother. But at least he was more or less polite about it. "Fair enough. Although I'm afraid Beacon may surprise you yet."

Jaune just shrugged. "We'll see."

* * *

Jaune had to admit, Beacon certainly looked stunning.

A sprawling, marble-floored university, it's centre taken by a grand tower made of gleaming stone and steel, the rest of the school then spreading from the towers in a graceful mess of archways and pathways, the foggy dawn lit by the soft golden lanterns hanging from them.

It put things into perspective pretty well. This wasn't the dusty, sweat-stained Frontier, where he could get away with pretty much whatever he wanted. People here were civilised and pleasant, they would be well-mannered and polite. Talking with the students here wouldn't be like the rough, coarse interaction he was used to from the people of the Frontier.

Jaune exhaled, and watched as his breath became frigid mist. Ozpin and himself had fallen into quiet, which was fine by him. He wouldn't consider himself a master of conversation by any means, and he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of Ozpin. Besides, he was used to quiet. Liked it, even. It let him think clearly, and did wonders for his control.

A beeping sound cleared the quiet suddenly, the tinny sound seemingly coming from Ozpin. Ozpin sighed ruefully, and moved his hand to his wrist, silencing the annoying noise. "I'm very sorry, Mr Kenpachi, but I need to attend to this call. The main hall is directly ahead, from there it should be easy enough to find your way."

Jaune nodded, then remembered what his Ma had said about being polite. "Thank you, Professor Ozpin."

The man smirked playfully. "For what?"

Jaune opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of what to say. Ozpin chuckled at the boy's reaction. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr Kenpachi," he said, turning and strolling away from Jaune, cane rapping against the smooth cobbles.

Jaune grunted in annoyance. He didn't think he'd ever get the hang of manners. The blonde resumed his walk down the lantern-lit pathway, enjoying the chilling touch of the fog on his skin. Like frostbitten fingers caressing his face. Pretty nice, all things considered.

Jaune had been walking for a few minutes when he heard a very familiar sound. The sound of a blade cutting through the air, leaving behind that faint _swish_ of air that a decent weapon always did. Each swing of the weapon was accompanied by a faint feminine grunt, as well as the sound of boots digging into grass, probably leaving behind scars and pits. All sounds he was intimately familiar with, sounds he had grown up with. It was rather comforting.

The sounds were emanating from his right side, where he guessed there was some sort of garden. He considered walking on and ignoring the sound, but he was bored, and he had loads of time to kill before initiation began. So he left the path and strolled into the mist, toying with the hilt of his sword. As he got closer, he started to get somewhat excited. The swishes of air held barely any space between them, but were all still plenty loud. Whoever was practising - a new student like him, probably - was pretty damn good.

The first thing Jaune noticed as he moved into the garden was the dampness of the grass beneath his feet. It was still wet with morning dew, and his feet sank into the soft green fur. He wiggled his toes, digging them into the soft soil. He decided then that he loved morning mist.

The second thing he noticed was the student he had been looking for. A girl still in her pyjamas, wielding a crimson and gold spear, bronze hoplite shield held in her other hand. What was truly striking about the girl was her hair, a stunning river of velvet, and the way that she used her weapons; with all the expertise and power of a true warrior.

Even as he watched, her spear spun circles around her body, the complicated movement made to look easy, even though Jaune knew himself how hard it was to spin a weapon like that - he still couldn't do it himself. And to use it in combat? She was _very_ good.

Jaune felt a grin start to split his lips, felt his hand tighten around the hilt of his blade. It took a fair deal of effort to push down his instincts and remind himself that this was _Vale_ , not the Frontier, and he couldn't go around attacking whoever he pleased, especially not first-year students of Beacon, who were probably much more fragile than his usual opponents.

The girl noticed him then, yelping in shock and hopping back a step. Jaune shifted uncomfortably, suddenly regretting his decision to come over; she'd obviously been trying to catch some practice alone, and he'd disturbed her. He would have hated if someone did that to him.

"Hel-."

"Hey."

They cut each other off awkwardly. Jaune noticed her voice, soft and polite, at odds with her tall and powerful physique. An uncomfortable silence hung in the air. Jaune slumped slightly. He really should have stuck to himself, rather than try and interact with someone his age; something he now realised he'd never done before.

 _Thanks ma._

"Why a shield?" He asked, latching onto the one thing he knew they held in common - combat.

"Pardon?"

"Most Huntsman go without a shield. They use aura to protect themselves instead," He answered, rubbing the back of his head, hoping desperately that she would see his plight and help him out.

"Well, tradition, I suppose. My mother fought with them, and she handed them down to me when I was old enough. I grew rather attached to them."

He grunted, happy he'd managed to start what resembled a conversation. His hand returned to its pocket. "Fair enough. They've got names?"

She smiled. "Milo and Akouo."

"Speak and listen?"

She blinked in surprise. "You know Mistralian?"

He shrugged. "Enough to get by." He'd been taught by the visiting caravanner, who Ma had pushed into teaching him the language. She had wanted him to have some sort of intellectual study outside of the family tradition, and he'd chosen to study the languages. It had seemed more useful than Math or Science to him.

They stood in silence for a few seconds, Jaune staring at the air above her head. The redhead smiled kindly and sat down on the wet grass, leaning against one of the arch's that dotted the garden. She patted the ground next to her in invitation. Jaune smiled somewhat sheepishly. She really had taken pity on him.

"What about your own sword?" She asked as he sat down next to her.

Jaune drew his blade and held it out in front of him. The lengthy, slender blade collected the dew of the morning, the pitted and scarred blade now lined with glistening droplets of water. The hilt was wrapped in sweat-stained bandages, and the dull golden guard seemed rather pointless, slanting towards and away from the blade in an odd diamond shape. "It's called Nozarashi. Just a sword, no fancy mechashifts."

The girl cocked her head to the side in curiosity, either fake or real, he couldn't tell. "Seems rather hard to use."

Jaune chuckled, grinning slightly. "Works for me." He sheathed the blade casually, his experience showing in the way he sheathed the long, unwieldy blade without looking.

The girl nodded. "I'm Pyrrha," she said. There was an expectant tilt to her head, as if she was waiting for some reaction from him. He stared at her, confused, until he realised that he hadn't given his own name in return.

"Jaune."

Pyrrha smiled merrily at him.

They fell into an awkward quiet again, and Jaune searched for a conversation topic. He pounced upon the first one he found. "So your ma taught you to how to use Milo and Akouo?"

Pyrrha's smile grew.

* * *

Jaune found that it was rather easy to lose track of time talking to Pyrrha. She was easy-going, polite, and a rather good conversationalist; good enough to balance out his own roughness. They talked about nothing: weapons, families, and the benefits and disadvantages of mechashift. Jaune managed to keep the nature of his semblance and battle style more or less under the rugs. It wasn't exactly something that he wanted to advertise to his new… friend? To date, the only person he knew who wasn't slightly afraid of it was his Ma; that was just the effect he tended to have on people when he let loose. He didn't particularly like it, but he couldn't really blame them for it either.

The sun had come out a while ago and chased away the mist, leaving a flawless pastel-blue sky behind, adorned with a glowing golden sun. It was the kind of weather his Ma would have loved, beautiful and warm, although he found that he preferred the cool fog to the glaring sun. Damn thing got in his eyes.

Pyrrha exhaled, and stood up, extending her hand down to Jaune with a smile. "I would imagine that we don't have long until the Initiation starts," she said with a sigh. He didn't need the help, but he took the hand anyway, not wanting to seem impolite.

It didn't take them long to reach the main hall of Beacon. The building was fairly obvious, with a fairly large set of double doors made of finely carved hardwood, the walls occupied by large, open windows held together by neat bars of black steel.

Pyrrha pushed open the doors and walked in, revealing a large hall full to the brim of students, dressed in colourful attire and talking amongst themselves. The noise and heat hit Jaune like a truck, and he suddenly didn't feel like entering the room, a nervous pit plonking down in the depths of his gut. Something about the large group of people, the noise and energy all clustered together in one small area made him vastly uncomfortable.

Surely there was another way to get to the initiation than through there, right? There had to be. Beacon was a large school after all, and-

"Jaune?" Pyrrha was standing there, holding the door open for him, eyebrow quirked. "Why aren't you coming in?"

Jaune searched desperately for an excuse, one that didn't sound as bad as 'I don't want to' or 'I don't like crowds'. He shrugged helplessly, uncertain what he could say to let him leave without offending Pyrrha.

Pyrrha blinked in surprise, then started to giggle. "Jaune, do you-" she giggled again "Do you not like crowds?"

Jaune shuffled in place. "I... not really, no."

Pyrrha's clapped her hand over her mouth to stop herself, but didn't quite manage to pull it off. She burst into bright peals of laughter.

Jaune stared at her. "It really isn't that funny," he objected feebly.

Pyrrha just kept laughing.

Jaune threw his hands up in the air with a low groan and walked into the room, muttering curses under his breath and shoving his hands into his pockets as he navigated around the sleeping bags and bodies. Pyrrha caught up to him, still chortling quietly. Jaune's eyebrow twitched as he was nearly taken out by an excitable girl in pink and white, who chirped an apology and darted around him.

"Oh come on, Jaune. It really isn't that bad." Jaune just grunted in response. He scowled as he saw a bunch of idiots flexing, in broad display of the room no less. What made it worse was that someone was _impressed_ by them, a lazy wolf whistle coming from somewhere among the sea of bodies.

He glanced back at Pyrrha, who was staring at the boys with a rather unimpressed expression. He was very, very grateful to have met her before coming in here. She was polite, intelligent and mature, and on top of all that, someone who could fight worth a damn. As long as he stuck by her, he would be fine.

"Mhm, Jaune?"

He turned to look at Pyrrha. She gestured to something in front of them. He turned to see two separate doorways, clearly signposted as _Male_ and _Female._

The changing rooms.

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

 _Lovely._

"Let's meet up later?" Pyrrha ended the phrase in a question, biting her lip. He smiled internally at the small gesture. It was nice to know that he wasn't the only one that could be nervous.

"We'd better," he grumbled, his gaze returning to the idiots that were flexing in the corner.

Pyrrha smiled. "See you in a bit." She walked into the female changing room, her outfit assumably inside it.

Jaune sighed, and moved into the male changing room.

* * *

The Kenpachi family was surprisingly traditional, for a group of people so… rough. They had their swords, hereditary semblances, outfits, and the always-there gimmick.

Each was specialised to the individual Kenpachi, but certain things remained the same. The sword was always some form of Katana and was never imbued with any form of mechashift. Each was named by the mother of the respective Kenpachi at birth; his own Nozarashi translated to _Weather-beaten one_. The semblance was always a variation on the same idea - the further a Kenpachi went into battle, the more powerful they would become. A Haori - a flowing, white coat - was given to each and every Kenpachi when they reached maturity, and beneath it they wore billowing black robes that somehow didn't obstruct movement. Jaune had torn the sleeves off his own, and deepened the depth of the cut in the front, revealing his chest all the way down to his navel. It ensured that the cloth wouldn't get inside of his wounds if he was ever cut through it. And the gimmick - every Kenpachi had one. Ma had her healing and knives, which she used to great effect. And he had his bells.

Around his wrists, waist and ankles, he tied small silver bells. They chimed with every movement he made, ringing softly. It ensured that every enemy he fought knew that he was coming for them, that they knew that _Jaune fucking Kenpachi_ was after them. That was the idea, anyway. It would work quite a bit better when he had a bit more infamy to his name; right now, they just made stealth quite impossible and spiced up his otherwise dull outfit. Not that that was much of a concern, but every little thing helped.

Jaune made sure that Nozarashi was still firmly secured, tucked into the sash that crossed his waist and simultaneously held his bells and Shikkahuso - the black robes - in place. He was eager to get out of the changing rooms and back to Pyrrha. It was far, far worse than the hall had been, being much smaller in comparison. There was probably about a foot per stinking, noisy person, and he didn't particularly enjoy having to pick his way around strewn underwear and socks.

Satisfied that everything was in place, he strolled out of the changing room and into a hallway filled with lockers as quickly as he could. It was teeming with people, each dressed in all sorts of brightly colourful outfits, from one short girl that looked like a gothic red riding hood, to the girl from before dressed in hot pink and white. It seemed that wherever he went, he just couldn't escape the teeming masses of students.

He inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming himself. There wasn't long to go until the initiation, during which he'd be by himself or with his partner in the Emerald Forest, slaughtering Grimm. If it worked the same way as it had when his Ma was at the school.

It couldn't come soon enough.

Pyrrha was, thankfully, easy to find. Though the hallway was cluttered with brightly coloured people, all clamouring about, causing a racket, Pyrrha was unmissable from height alone, she stood a good half foot above everyone else. And her bright crimson hair didn't hurt matters either.

Jaune started to forge his way through the crowd of people with pursed lips and scowl. He really, _really_ couldn't wait for the initiation to start.

When he _finally_ reached Pyrrha, he found her talking with a short girl with stark white hair dressed in a red-lined blue dress and bolero jacket. Pyrrha looked remarkably uncomfortable, fidgeting with the corner of her skirt - a part of her outfit, which seemed to be designed similarly to ancient Mistralian armour - and smiling hesitantly. The short girl seemed to be lost in her own little world, rubbing her hands together in a greedy manner and cackling to herself.

"Hey, partner," he greeted calmly from behind his friend. He'd spent a lot of time in the changing room thinking over the greeting and hoped that he hadn't overstepped some line he was unaware of. But there was no way in hell he was taking anyone else as his partner. Pyrrha yelped and spun, relaxing when she saw who it was. She exhaled shakily but smiled nonetheless. The greeting had snapped the short girl out of her… whatever it was. She was glaring at Jaune, for some reason or other.

"Hello Jaune," she said with a smile. The short girl's eyes slipped from Pyrrha to Jaune, more specifically his bared chest. Her lip curled in distaste.

The short girl extended her hand daintily, her lip still curled. "Weiss Schnee. A pleasure," she heralded. It was very clear from her voice that it wasn't a pleasure at all. "And I'll have you know that Pyrrha has already agreed to be my partner."

Jaune glanced at Pyrrha, frowning. She shrugged her shoulders in a helpless gesture. He turned back to Weiss and took her hand, his Ma's lectures taking effect. "Jaune Kenpachi." Weiss stiffened at his last name and withdrew her hand as if she had been burned.

"You expect Pyrrha Nikos to take a _Kenpachi_ as a partner?" She sneered, spitting out his last name like a sour apple. Pyrrha inhaled sharply as Weiss said her name, then sighed sadly and stared at the ground. He didn't understand why, it wasn't a bad last name or anything.

"Why not?" He asked, a threat lying in wait under the words. The girl obviously didn't think much of his family, for whatever reason. He wouldn't stand by and let her insult what he lived for.

"Why not?" She repeated, aghast, as if she couldn't believe what he was saying. "You're a _Kenpachi._ You expect the four-time winner of the Mistral tournament to partner with a _savage_ like you?"

 _Ah._

Jaune cocked his head to the side and looked at Pyrrha, assessing her. Pyrrha looked terribly sad, staring at the floor with a frown. Weiss stared at Pyrrha, first confused at her reaction, then horrified as she realised she'd upset the champion.

Jaune tried to fight of the grin that split his lips, but he wasn't quite able to. It grew slowly and shakily, first a small, close-lipped smirk, then ravenous teeth, and finally a wretched, face-splitting leer of uncontrollable brutality. It was quite a terrifying thing, wide and wild, the smile of a rabid dog, truly sickening to look at. Weiss choked and took a step back, but all Pyrrha did was stare at him, confused.

"So you're _strong_? _"_ He asked roughly, savage grin still in place. Pyrrha stared at him in confusion, before she recognised the challenge for what it was. A flicker of relief passed over her face, before the warrior that hid behind the polite girl surfaced, bringing a confident smirk to her face. "The strongest," she replied. Their eyes locked together; his crinkled with barbaric glee, and her own half-lidded in a self-assured manner.

" _Would all first-year students please report to Beacon Cliff for initiation? Again, all first-year students report to Beacon Cliff immediately."_

Jaune chuckled coarsely. his semblance mere inches away from bursting through the surface, and turned away to walk through the crowd, some of whom were staring at him with wide eyes. Pyrrha watched him go, a content smile on her face.

He really was the perfect partner for her.

* * *

Jaune found the Emerald Forest to be rather dull.

It was beautiful, in a boring way. A neverending expanse of lush green, towering trees of all different sorts forming an impenetrable canopy. But that was all there was to it. Just a large, well-kept forest chock full of Grimm.

That last fact did bring an eager smile to his face. It had been _days_ since he'd had a decent fight, the long flight and then beacon restraining him from his hereditary urges. But now he would get the chance to blow off some steam and let loose. As long as he partnered with Pyrrha, and not one of the many assholes that inhabited Beacon, he'd be fine.

Another interesting thing was the steel tiles they stood on. All of the students had been guided to a cliff that overlooked the forest and corraled to stand on top of the metre-wide tiles. Some sort of contraption, he guessed, but he had no idea what It would do.

"Are there any questions?" Ozpin asked, standing beside the tiles. Jaune blinked, confused as to what there would be questions about, until he realised that he probably hadn't been listening to a speech of Ozpin's. Ah well. Ma had warned him about how boring they were anyway.

"Good! Now, take your positions." Ozpin seemed… chirpy? Something like that. The man was smiling like a kid on christmas eve, and his voice was much brighter than it had been when he had greeted Jaune.

He turned to check on Pyrrha. She was crouched in a low posture, Milo and Akouo held ready. He cocked his head to the side. "Pyrr-"

His eyebrows shot to his hairline as she suddenly disappeared, the platform under her springing up and sending her rocketing over the forest. He looked down slowly and squinted at the platform beneath his feet.

Ozpin chuckled merrily.

 _Bast-_

In barely half a second he was hundreds of metres in the air, drifting slowly over the forest in a way that was almost peaceful. He could see the horizon for miles, a sprawling expanse of emerald that led into the bright colours of Vale. The wind probably would have torn his eyes out if it weren't for his aura, but he enjoyed the view anyway.

And then he started to fall.

Jaune sighed sadly at losing the view, then grinned as his focus returned to the forest, and the Grimm that littered it.

Jaune focused on what lay deep inside his soul, and brought it to the surface with a heave of mental effort. A pulse of sickly yellow energy left his body in a wide wave, dissipating into tiny tongues of plasma the further it went from his body. The feeling of activating his semblance, of releasing the beast within raised the hairs on his body, sent a singular, excited shiver racing through him.

The latest in a long line of Kenpachi's grinned, and drew his sword.

* * *

 **The thought of explaining the character's of Jaune and Pyrrha and how they're interacting up above did cross my mind, but that felt a tad cheap to me. The way it's written relies quite a bit on the reader to fill in the gaps with what they already know about the two characters, and that's not exactly the most foolproof method of characterization, which Is why I considered explaining it down here. Hopefully it turned out alright, but if you have any doubts or confusion, I'll happily explain in a PM or Review Response.**

 **Thank you for reading, and please do drop a review if you're at all interested in this little story of mine.**

 **Have a wonderful day.**


	2. Chapter 2

**For the writing of this chapter (particularly the fight scenes), I was listening to plenty of heavy Muse; Psycho, Hysteria, Supermassive Black Hole, New Born and the like. You don't have to, of course, but I'd be interested to see if it improved the experience for you. And if you don't know Muse, well, what are you doing with your life? Go listen to some of their music. It's great. Except for the Second Law.**

 **The Second Law can suck a dick.**

 **Disclaimer - I do not own Bleach or RWBY. They belong to Tite Kubo and Roosterteeth respectively.**

* * *

The Emerald forest was the picture-perfect definition of a Valian landscape. Enormous trees that jutted into the sky like the snow-capped mountains of Atlas, a lush green forest floor peppered with fruit-bearing bushes and gently babbling brooks, the soothing scent of soil and pine filling the air. It was the very image of peace and comfort, a beautiful sanctuary from the harsh nature of the world.

The corpse of a disembowelled Beowolf slammed into a tree and slid down it slowly. The poor beast gave a pained moan as it dissolved into black smoke.

Jaune Kenpachi was dancing in a stream, slaughtering countless amounts of juvenile Beowolves. His feet threw up water with every movement he made, soaking the flowing robes of his Shikkahuso. A small yet razor-sharp grin tugged at his lips, the youngest Kenpachi entirely in his nature.

Nozarashi shrieked through the air, slicing cleanly through a charging Beowolves jaw, killing it instantly. The next came from above, leaping at him from the elevated bank that led down to the riverbed. Jaune held Nozarashi low enough that its tip touched the riverbed and swung upwards, opening a gaping wound in the Grimm's chest and tossing it to the side like an old rag doll.

He grunted and ducked underneath a rather well-telegraphed swing. Nozarashi flicked out and slit the foolish Grimm's throat. Admittedly, there wasn't much point to this fight, but he wanted to warm up his semblance slightly before moving onto tougher Grimm. As Ma had always said; 'If you want a warm up, kill some Valian Beowolves. It's like killing wet-paper towels.'

Three of them jumped him simultaneously, getting behind the reach of his sword and overwhelming him with sheer body mass. Their claws and teeth skittered off his aura, too close to get any real power behind them.

His grin widened as power crackled through his body.

He dropped his sword into the river bank, gripped the skull of the Beowolf above him and wrenched it violently to the side. Its neck broke with a wet snap. He slammed his fist into the second's face and bowled, then pulped its ribcage beneath his foot. His hand shot out and closed around the nape of the final Beowolves neck. He set his other hand on the monsters hips, lifted it above his head, and brought it down on his rising knee. It's spine ground and grated against his leg as it broke. He tossed the dissolving beast to the side and tossed Nozarashi up with his foot. His hand shot out and caught the blade by the hilt.

The world fell quiet, the silence broken only by the timid bubbling of the stream.

Jaune cocked his head.

The last Beowolf snarled ferociously as it sprung at him from the bushes on the riverbank, jaws wide and weeping saliva. Jaune set his feet and caught the beast by the throat with his bare hand, slammed it into the ground and thrust his sword into its chest. The beast dissolved with a piteous growl.

He exhaled and rolled his neck, the small bones popping as he lazily rocked it to the left and right. The Beowolves hadn't been much of a challenge, but they had managed to get his semblance all nice and warmed up. He could feel it sparking and sizzling in his chest, urging him to satiate his urges with a good and proper _fight_.

He slung his blade over his shoulders and started to stroll down the stream, his bare feet parting the water around them. The chill liquid was rather pleasant, and he liked the small yellow fish that flitted around his feet and nibbled at his ankles. Jaune hummed a tune he couldn't quite remember the name of under his breath.

* * *

A crooked grin crept onto Jaune's lips. He had to admit, the cave looked quite promising.

A dark, foreboding chasm, carved out of a towering cliff, lipped by small stalactites and uneven rock. His eyes couldn't pierce even a foot into the blackness that smothered its interior. The stone around the cave was covered in clumsy art that depicted the terrors of the Grimm, a horde of Beowolves and Creeps flowing over city walls like water over a dam, a Deathstalker Grimm retreating into some sort of chasm, it's carapace laden with blood and gore. The deathstalker was drawn a good deal larger than all the other illustrations.

Jaune slipped Nozarashi from his shoulder and gave it a few practice swings. The scarred blade carved rents from the air. There was a chance - a small one - that the cave contained the Deathstalker the drawings depicted. And if that was the case… well.

Jaune smiled excitedly, a child on Christmas morning, and bent over, picked up a large rock the size of his head. He hefted it once, assumed a stance, and sent the large rock flying into the cave.

A quiet enveloped the world.

Jaune inhaled and exhaled deeply, the air flowing slowly from his lungs.

A toe-clenching, spine-numbing screech tore the air in two, sending a veritable colony of small birds flying from the treetops, squawking in terror. A shimmering set of red eyes shone dimly from the darkness, accompanied by the sound of some large creature skittering over rock.

Jaune grinned. He hopped up and down a few times, loosening the lean muscles that covered his frame.

A titanic Deathstalker Grimm burst from the cave, screaming dissonantly, it's legs, claws and lure-tipped tail flailing about as if it was an upturned cockroach. Jaune licked his lips as his semblance bubbled excitedly, small gouts of xanthous energy rising from his body. The Kenpachi darted forward with a chime of bells. The Deathstalkers legs hit the ground with a weighty _thud._

The Grimm shrieked again and lashed out with a carapace-covered claw. Jaune leapt over the blow, the attack so fast it ruffled his hair. The Kenpachi landed on it's back and flipped his grip on Nozarashi, aiming to skewer it with a single strike. His sword simply bounced off with a ring. He clicked his tongue as the Grimm's tail lashed out, catching him in the torso and sending him flying backwards.

Jaune slammed into the ground and bounced once before blasting through a tree, his impact throwing up enough sawdust to form a thin cloud. The tall tree swayed once before it toppled over and slammed into the ground with a weighty _thump,_ sending a wave of wind rushing over the clearing.

A thin crescent of yellow energy burst from the cloud, tearing across the clearing with a low _hiss._ The wave of pure aura skittered off the raised claws of the Deathstalker. It staggered backwards nonetheless, its eyes blinded by the bright energy. It blinked rapidly, it's vision returning quickly enough to catch a glimpse of a bestial grin.

A crippling pain enveloped the beasts right side as two of its legs were sheared clean off. Black smoke poured from the gaping holes. The Deathstalker screamed to the high heavens, tail and claws lashing about its body in a frenzy of bewildered pain. Its ears picked up on a shifting of dirt behind it and it spun, its claws blurring through the air.

Jaune's eyes widened at the sudden attack. He set one hand against the blade of Nozarashi and raised it before him, reinforcing the scarred blade with a good deal of aura. His feet dug furrows into the ground as the blow threw him backwards.

The creature of Grimm hobbled towards him with unnerving speed, claws and tail thrashing about, enraged screech bursting from its mandibles. Jaune's grin was brutal as he raised Nozarashi. Yellow energy licked at the base of the blade.

A bronze shield slammed into the face of the Grimm, sending it careening off to the side. He spun to see Pyrrha dashing towards him, arm extended. He stared for a second, surprised, then scowled. The Deathstalkers tail lashed out from behind him, once again sending him rocketing over the clearing, this time straight at Pyrrha. He grunted and slammed his palm into the ground, sending him up and over the champion. He flipped in the air and landed on his feet behind the girl like an especially agile cat.

"The hell are you doing here?" Pyrrha started in shock at the hostility in his voice.

"I-,"

The Deathstalker screamed and charged forwards, scarred claws gnashing together, froth seeping from its segmented mouth. Jaune growled.

" _Fine._ Don't get in my way."

Pyrrha nodded and darted forwards. Jaune charged after her, Nozarashi held in a two-handed grip. The Grimm shrieked and lashed out at the duo. Its claws were layered with mud and moss. Jaune leapt over the blow and landed on its back, feet barely brushing against the rough carapace before he darted forwards. Pyrrha slid beneath the blow, bronze plated legs slipping easily over the dewy grass.

Jaune took one final step and sprung forwards, Nozarashi extended behind him. It tore into the carapace of the Deathstalker's tail, a colossal gout of black sludge spraying from the wound, staining Jaune's blade and arm. Pyrrha's Milo dug a trench across the Grimm's underside, cutting neatly through unarmoured skin. She rolled out from underneath the wildly flailing Deathstalker and jogged over to Jaune, at least 10 metres from the wriggling beast. Jaune was scowling grumpily; he didn't yet have enough strength to cut right through the tail, and had only engraved a deep cut into it. Pyrrha's situation was similar, she hadn't been able to cut too deeply into the skin, otherwise she would have been trapped underneath it.

The Deathstalker spun, glimmering eyes wide with fury. It shuddered slightly, claws twitching and trembling, then started to crawl slowly towards them, far more guarded than it had been.

Pyrrha turned to Jaune, her eyes still on the Grimm. "Can you get me it's underside?" Jaune paused, then chuckled coarsely, catching onto her idea. He shoved Nozarashi into his sash and sprung across the clearing in a single leap, rushing straight at the Deathstalkers face. His bells jingled softly.

The beast of Grimm chittered, drew its claws back and caught Jaune in between them, the impact of the blow rushing over the clearing and rustling the grass. Jaune roared and burst into violent yellow energy. His lips twisted into a savage grin as he clenched his hands in a hammer shape and drove them _upwards,_ into the jaw of the Deathstalker. A tremendous crunching of bone resounded through the clearing, accompanied by the Deathstalker lurching upwards, exposing it's pitch black underside to the world, and, more importantly, Pyrrha.

The Mistralian champion was there in an instant, springing off Jaune's shoulder with Milo's clasped in both hands. She slammed the blade into the Grimm's throat and dragged her weapon straight down its underside, Milo cutting deep and true.

The creature arched it's back even further and started to tremble, a low, pained moan emanating from its pincered mouth. It toppled backwards and collapsed with a satisfying thud, a rush of air ruffling the hem of Jaune's Shikkahuso. The Deathstalker dissipated slowly into smoke. The pair watched it go. A satisfied smile lit up Pyrrha's face. She turned to Jaune, kept smiling even as he narrowed his eyes at her.

Jaune hesitated, torn between a polite greeting or an irritated snarl. She'd gotten in the way of his fight, which he _hated,_ but she'd been nothing but polite and kind, and he didn't want to scare away his only friend. In the end, he managed to get a grip on his unruliness, if a very weak one.

"Sorry," He muttered.

Pyrrha turned to him, head cocked to the side. "For what?"

He shrugged. "Biting you off."

"Oh."

"I just hate when people interrupt me," he continued. "Pisses me off."

Pyrrha blinked, then grinned, the skin under her eyes crinkling.

"It's perfectly fine," she said. Jaune looked away and grunted.

Pyrrha patted his shoulder, then moved past him and started to make her way across the clearing. Jaune followed her, hands clasped behind his head. "Let's go find those relics," she said.

"The what?"

"The… relics? The goal of the initiation?"

Jaune paused, barely a second's hesitation, but it was enough.

"You… didn't know?"

Jaune didn't reply, but he twitched slightly. Once again, it was enough.

Pyrrha pursed her lips, and tried very hard not to laugh.

* * *

It only took a few minutes for them to escape the thick forest.

One moment they were trekking through the tangled undergrowth, hacking through thick brush and wading through waist-high shrubbery, the next they were suddenly stumbling into a wide clearing carpeted with gently swaying grass. In the middle of it stood a ruined stone structure, tall obelisks crumbling away to nothing, overgrown vines and flower-dotted ivy kindly caressing the remnants of a forgotten era.

There were several figures standing in the centre of the ruins, some tall, some short, predominantly female, all wearing ridiculous outfits. Jaune huffed. He wanted a fight, not a social minefield.

Pyrrha waved cheerily as they neared the ruin, a bright greeting springing from her lips. Jaune didn't bother. The other initiates greeted Pyrrha in kind, some saying Hello, some nodding quietly, one even curtseying gracefully. He noticed unhappily that it was the Schnee girl he'd argued with earlier, and resolved to try and avoid her.

As Pyrrha walked into the midst of the initiates, shaking hands and smiling politely, Jaune stood on the outside of it all and stared at the sky, hoping none of them would approach them. His semblance was still frothing, and he honestly wasn't in the mood.

"H-hello."

Jaune turned, looked down, saw a small girl that smelt like roses. A red cloak flowed down her back like a river, and her eyes were bright and silver. The girl stuck her hand out.

"I-I'm Ruby Rose," she said, glancing away from the suddenly very tall boy.

Jaune grunted, grumbled internally, and shook her outstretched hand. She seemed to inflate a little bit.

"Jaune," He said in return.

The girl opened her mouth and closed it. She shuffled awkwardly, her fingers toying with the fabric of her cloak. Jaune started to turn away, more interested in the forest, and the Grimm within it, but stopped when the girl latched onto his wrist.

"Wait!" She said, trailing off into stutters when Jaune turned back around to look at her. She floundered for a second or two, then her eyes lit up. Jaune's eyes narrowed. He knew that look. She pulled a red box from behind her back, which smoothly unfurled into a demented fusion of Scythe and Sniper rifle. Jaune blinked, trying to understand how this tiny girl could wield such a colossal monstrosity of a weapon.

"This is Crescent Rose," she said proudly, "my baby. She's a mechashift based combination of a Scythe and 12mm calibre sniper rifle that can…" She trailed off as she realised that each and every one of the initiates was now staring at her. She shrunk into herself, and pulled her hood up to hide her face.

"It's too complex," Jaune said. The girl blinked, then shrunk into herself a bit more.

"Y-you think so?" She mumbled.

"Mn. It'll get you killed."

"O-oh."

Jaune shrugged. "Try something simpler. Like a sword."

Ruby opened her mouth, closed it, trying to think of something to say. She decided to shuffle behind Crescent Rose instead. Jaune heard a low groan from behind him, turned to see a leather-clad blonde drag her hand down her face. Pyrrha hurried next to him and dragged him away from the girl.

"Don't be mean," she hissed to him. He opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off when she shoved something into his hand. He stared quizzically at the small golden chess piece she'd placed in his hand. One of the relics? He opened his mouth to ask the question, but was cut off once more as a gust of wind rushed through the ruins and ruffled his hair. He raised his eyes to the sky, paused, and grinned.

An Elder Nevermore circled above them in the sky, each beat of its jagged wings sending waves of wind over the clearing. Even from here, Jaune could see how its eyes glowed a dark, gory crimson.

Jaune drew Nozarashi, just as one of the other trainees said "We don't have to fight him, right?" He spun and glared at the offender, an amber-eyed girl wearing a bow. A round of muttered agreements went around the ruins, deepening Jaune's scowl. Pyrrha put her hand on Jaune's shoulder, but he brushed it off, walked out into the middle of the clearing. No way in hell he was missing this opportunity.

Jaune saw the titanic Raven tilt its head, felt more than saw it's gaze settle on him, a good 10 meters away from the group.

Jaune grinned, and rolled his shoulders back and forth.

And then it circled away.

Jaune blinked in confusion, snarled as he realised what had happened. He heard Pyrrha talking with the group of initiates, heard them all dash away, one after the other.

Pyrrha walked up to him, stood beside him. Jaune kept staring over the treetops, hoping the Nevermore would return so he could satiate that ever-present itch of his.

Pyrrha exhaled, turned to look at him. "It's gone, Jaune."

Jaune hesitated, staring over the treetops, a vague hope in his chest. He grumbled grumpily as the Nevermore didn't return. "Yeah." He slipped Nozarashi into his sash, turned and started to walk away, to an opening in the trees on the other side of the clearing. Pyrrha followed him, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Jaune cocked his head. "Why are you smiling?"

Pyrrha blinked, as if surprised he had noticed, then giggled. "Oh, nothing much," she said.

Jaune stared incredulously at her. After a few seconds of moderate confusion, he shook his head, and chalked it up to more social bullshit that he just didn't understand.

They walked in silence for minutes, the grass beneath their feet now shadowed by the thick, leathery trees that enshrouded the path. There seemed to be a constant wind, ruffling the grass under their feet and the leaves above their heads. The forest eventually pulled away to reveal an odd blend of clearing and valley, a field of grass that sat between two large hills, also bestrewn with grass. Ravaged pillars lined the long, wide plain at regular intervals, covered in intricate carvings much too old to be decipherable.

A sound reached his ears, something he could only describe as a low _whump._ He glanced over his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, a hail of pitch black feathers, razor-tipped, completely silent as they flew through the sky.

"Pyrrha!" He warned, spinning to face the feathers. She caught sight of them, and without a second's hesitation drew Akouo and crouched behind it. Only a second later she realised that Jaune had no way to shield himself. The Kenpachi grit his teeth, crossed his arms before his face, and pumped as much power into his aura's skin-level shield as possible.

The quiet broke as feather after feather thudded into him, digging into his aura. His arms, his legs, his chest, his entire body was riddled with the metre-long projectiles. He coughed, stunned, and reeled backwards. His vision swam.

Pyrrha choked in horror as the Nevermore plummeted from the sky with unimaginable speed and slammed it's claws into Jaune, sending him hurtling across the plain. He bounced once, twice, then came to a slow halt on the wet grass. The Nevermore screeched and pulled up, it's eyes fixated on Jaune's fallen body. Pyrrha wasn't stupid enough to believe that it was retreating. It was just pulling away for another attack. A stronger one, probably.

Pyrrha cursed violently and started to run towards her fallen partner. She came to a stop as he levelled Nozarashi at her, the tip of the blade trembling slightly. His message was clear; _Stay Away._ Nauseating yellow energy started to gutter over his body, growing in power even as Pyrrha watched.

Jaune rose slowly, unsteadily, venomous yellow flames now pouring liberally from his body. He swayed in place, head down, Nozarashi hanging from his hand. Pyrrha was barely breathing, her eyes wide. His head lolled back slowly, revealing a face-splitting grin slathered with untethered glee.

Jaune started to chuckle, the sound coming from the back of his throat, wet and choppy.

The Nevermore was racing across the ground towards him, black wings shadowing the sun.

Jaune's chuckles grew and grew until they took the form of laughter, uneven and jagged.

The Nevermore's claws wrapped around his body and tossed him into the air, tearing up earth and grass and throwing it into the air around him. The Grimm's beak lashed out and ensnared him. His bones creaked.

His grin only deepened.

It shook its head to the left and to the right, tearing gashes across Jaune's aura, then tossed him into the ground, slamming atop him and closing its claws around his body.

It raised it's taloned foot and brought it down on him, again and again, screaming as it slammed him into the ground. Jaune waited until his semblance was close to bursting, a slavering beast desperate to tear its way from his chest, then lashed out with Nozarashi.

The overly long blade tore a deep, deep wound across the Nevermore's face, popping its eye like a rotten grape. The monster shrieked and stumbled away from the pain, shaking its head back and forth, pawing at its face with its wings.

Jaune rose sluggishly from the crater he had been drilled into, swaying unsteadily. Nozarashi hung loosely in his grip, the chipped blade smeared with blood and jelly. His grin was broader than ever.

"Come on," he said, voice slurred. "Have a go. If you're hard enough."

The Nevermore screamed and beat its wings, flinging black feather after black feather. Several of them thudded into Jaune, turning his Shikkahuso to rags. He sagged, like a drunkard ready to vomit, and flooded Nozarashi with power. The yellow energy that surged from it was more akin to a flash flood than a crescent, a violent outpouring of pure energy that rushed across the ground and cut through the Nevermore's wing like Scissors through wrapping paper.

The bird screamed again, the sound wet with blood, and rushed towards the Kenpachi, desperate to kill the monstrosity before it suffered any more of that burning, _agonising_ pain. Jaune gripped Nozarashi with both his hands, set the blade against the soft grass, crouched low, and swung.

The Nevermore fell apart in a flourish of flesh and feather, the now halved Grimm falling to either side of Jaune. Feathers fluttered downwards slowly, dissolving into fine black mist as Jaune watched, a scowl slowly but surely darkening his brow. The Kenpachi snarled and spat, slammed Nozarashi into the ground. He spun, searching for something to fight, to _kill._ His eyes settled upon Pyrrha Nikos.

His lip's tugged slowly backwards.

She swallowed and took a step back. She knew that Jaune wouldn't attack her. Of course he wouldn't. But there was something primally terrifying about her partner, something that left a deep, deep fear lodged in her heart. An instinct, really. To run.

While she still could.

"J-jaune?" She stuttered.

He didn't reply. All he did was raise Nozarashi. Pyrrha blinked, sweat dripping into her eyes, and then he was before her, eyes burning a noxious yellow, blade nearing her throat.

A purple wave of energy slammed into him, sent him careening off to the side. He crashed into a wall of stone that rose from the ground and crumpled to the ground. He tried to rise, but the purple energy slammed into him once more and forced him to the ground, held him there. He snarled and writhed, but the aura held strong.

Pyrrha held a hand to her mouth, stunned. His blade had been a mere hair-breadth from her throat. She'd heard the whisper of it, the sound any blade made when it sliced through the air. In less than a second, she'd come closer to death than she ever had before.

Her usually steady heart knocked against her ribs, an unsteady, drunken tempo.

Glynda Goodwitch was suddenly beside her, worried eyes hidden behind thin glasses. "Are you alright, Miss Nikos?" She asked gently, laying a hand on her shoulder, subtly placing herself in between Pyrrha and the Kenpachi. The Huntswoman's riding crop was glowing a deep plum colour. She'd saved her life. Barely.

Pyrrha looked to her snarling partner, eyes wide and yellow, clothes torn and shredded. His fingers were curled in the wet earth.

"I… I don't know."

* * *

 **A quick warning; the next chapter won't be out for a while. I've been neglecting my much more popular story to write this one, probably to the anger of quite a few people. No regrets, but I can't really afford to push it to the side for any longer. My standard working time on chapters is about a month, considering planning, writing the first draft, and revising. So, unless my working schedule takes any unexpected spikes in the next few weeks, expect the next chapter in about a month and a half (I'm half way through the first draft of my other stories chapter.) Sorry for those that want a bi-weekly (or, god forbid) a weekly update schedule. I'm a firm, firm believer in quality over quantity, and as a result, finishing these chapters takes a good deal of time.**

 **Thank you very much for reading. If you'd really like to support this story, and maybe ( _maybe)_ strengthen my writing motivation by a bare smidgen, please leave a review. **


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